If you could take every stereotype and caricature of the abominable snowman and roll them into one archetypal snow monster, you’d have what was standing before me. It was about twenty feet tall, covered in white shaggy fur. Three curved horns—one on each side and one in the forehead—protruded from its head. Its eyes were large and black, as were the six-inch claws on its hands. When it roared, I caught a glimpse of a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.

Dorian drew his copper sword. “Rurik, my friend. The next time you barter for our lodging, do get a bit more information on what exactly we’re paying.”

“Yes, sire,” muttered Rurik.

Seeing as we were standing out in the open, I would’ve thought the Storm—because really, it deserved a capital S—would come charging toward us. Instead it stopped by one of the huts and ripped off the building’s roof in one fell swoop. I heard screams from within. It occurred to me then that perhaps cold and starvation weren’t the only reasons for this place’s low population.

Dorian made the smallest of motions, and the ground beneath the Storm began to ripple. It wasn’t enough to make the creature fall over, but it did stumble and turn its attention away from the hut and its inhabitants. The fighters in our group—Rurik, Alistir, Keeli, and Danil—wasted no time in charging forward. They stabbed their swords into the Storm’s leg—or rather, they attempted to. Whatever the monster’s hide was made of, it was too tough and thick for copper to pierce. I wasn’t even sure steel would’ve done it. The Storm glanced down irritably and knocked aside Danil and Rurik with one easy motion. Kiyo, in a large and vicious fox form, was right behind the fighters and attempted to sink his teeth into the Storm’s leg. The monster brushed him off as well.

The Storm began stomping toward the rest of us. Dorian slowed it by manipulating the ground again. At the same time, I felt Jasmine’s magic flare, and a sheet of snow flew into the creature’s eyes, momentarily blinding him. It was clever. Her magic spoke to water, which responded to her even when frozen. Still, I knew this wasn’t going to be enough.

“We’re just annoying it,” I said.

“Can you banish it to the Underworld?” asked Dorian.

“Not easily.” Creatures in worlds they didn’t belong in—like gentry and spirits—would be pulled into a gate back to their own worlds. I could also force entities somewhere else, like the Underworld, which would bring about instant death. “For something this big, I’d need to mark him with a death symbol. I don’t know that I can get close, let alone get the symbol on him. Her. Whatever.”